Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1887-05-01

Every year ne cOnhc1envlOusiy prOuucet
what he called q "serious" work, taking
his subject from tho Bible, frou
| Milton, Spenser, or his mothers 70
yorite, "Pilgrim's Progress" These
did not sell so well as the babies, bu
he enjoyed painting them, and felt tina
he was fulfilling his destinyand raising
contemporary art. So tho years slipped
prosperously and calmly on till he wal
thirty, and then two great events came
TO Sebastian. One day rs he took ar
omnibus TO the city TO see q picture
dealer he found opposite TO him face
that was as an ideal to him. He wa
painting picture in which there wai
10 bc an Angela conventional angel
with large white wings and curling
hair-and he had not hit as yet upon
the countenance which he desired to
depict. But this young girl simply,
even shabbily but neatly, dressed in
black, with the innocent, wistful eyes
of child and the milk tints of ex
quisite fairness, was his typical angel.
He looked at her, not rudely, but with
thoughtful and rather tender interest,
but only met her blue eyes once,
when she blushed and withdrew
them. The blush made her per.
feet; completed his inward idea
of sweetness, modesty, softness OF
character and he told himself that he
would see more of her. As usual, Sc
bastian's lucky star was in the ascend
ant; he saw her put her hand in her
pocket for the little purse, which he
could fancy was thin enough a quick,
pink color-the blush of surprise and
dismay, not of gentle confusion this
time-fooded the pearly whiteness OF
her face. She withdrew her hand at
last, and looked across at Sebastian
they were alone in the omnibus-with
an expression of despair.
"Can i help you =? Have you lost
snything?" he asked her softly. Girls
always instinctively trusted the hand
some. stately man, with the kind,
friendly brown eyes.
81 have been robbed" she said,
with little culver in her voice, which
was not at all a vulger one, though the
tone had trace of the coekney. 81
had not much, but it is very awkward
l have nothing to pay the man."
Don't trouble at all about it. I
shall be only too glad to help you ont
of that little difficulty" he said in his
gentlest, most persuasive voice, in
stantly producing and passing a shill-
ing to the conductor with the word
1.-TWO"
"Thank You so MUCH" she said,
blushing again. Il viii send you the
sixpence if you'll tell me where"
"No; pray, pray, do not take the
trouble Do not think of it."
q had rather" she SAID quietly,
and second thought striking him, he
gave her his card at once. 1t occurred
to him that he should like her to know
where he lived.
When she asked him to stop the
omnibus he got ont with her, and pre-
tending that he had business in her di-
rection, asked very humbly if he might
walk with her. She could not help
trusting him she could not help liking
him. They got into talk as if they had
been properly" introduced. She was
only a respectable little working-girl,
who did fine work for q baby-linen
warehouse and supported an invalid,
bed-ridden mother with infinite diff
Guilty and accomplishing hard work
and he was a pure-hearted, chivalrous
man, who would rather have suffered
torture than betray a maiden's trust.
They knew each other, somehow, to
lie simple and good. He walked
through the sordid streets with little
Mary North to her lodgings, and then
asked her respectfully and in a matter
of-fact way if he might come in and see
her mother. He went in, for she only
hesitated a moment ; was very kind and
polite to the poor half-alive creature,
who had seen better days, as she kept
and before they parted he
had so convinced them of his good faith
and absolute responsibility that the
shy, modest girl had consented to let
him paint her for his angel. When she
was introduced to his large studio,
chiefly adorned with his pictures III
different stages, she clasped her hands
in delighted surprise, with an exclama-
ton that made him smile with plea
sure:
"Oh, sir, how lovely / had no
idea you were great painter"